The Blackest Rose
by Blackfire 18
Summary: All the tales surrounding the wicked fairy, Maleficent, are whimsical at best. They say she was sprung from the Blackest Rose on the Darkest Day, her scepter was forged in the fires of Hell, and her raven contained a wrathful demon. What is the truth?
1. Chapter 1

**The** **Blackest Rose**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sleeping Beauty or any of the characters there within, they are all property of Disney…etc.**

Her earliest memory was of her as an orphan; frozen and wet from the sudden, violent storm that had come from the North. The vicious gales shunted the rain nearly horizontal and the leaves of the forest sounded akin to a raging waterfall. The forest, her haven, had turned against her on that cold night—pushed her out into the cold and poised at the edge of a village. She had taken shelter under a briar patch, the shrub had been painted black in the dark of the night. Thorns had torn into her pale skin and made the fresh wounds bleed. She licked a jagged cut across the back of her hand, though the black blossom continued to grow anew despite her efforts. It stung something fierce. But the pain was but a dull ache in the back of her mind. Her attention was caught by the cacophony of noise that assaulted her ears at the square shadow in the stormy gloom. A lonely house stood in the near distance, the wooden shingles struggled to free themselves from the roof and the windows banged open with every other breath. It was fascinating…and terrifying.

Suddenly, the door facing her swung open and light flooded out into the night. Bright and blinding, it illuminated an impossibly tall rectangle of grass that stretched halfway to the forest. A silhouette was moving toward her and she shrank back into the foliage, hesitant to break into the twisting, gnarled branches like a deer running for cover. It carried a box that carried light as well, and a circle of light extended beyond the rectangle as it approached.

"Nero!" the figure called, heading straight toward her. "Nero, you foolish cat, come back inside this…" It trailed off as the light shone across her face. She blinked twice and shrank further back into the protective thorns, uncaring of the warning points of pressure they posed in light of this new threat. There was a startled exclamation and the being almost dropped the light box. "You are not my cat," it said, mopping a sweaty forehead with little effect as the rain continued to pour in sheets. "Are you lost little one?"

She continued to stare at the man; he was getting on in years, the edges of his eyes crinkled as he squinted at her, his graying hair matted to his head. The hand that held the box quivered a little, with no help from the howling wind.

"You will catch your death out here. Come with me, we will keep you safe." The man smiled faintly and held a hand out to the raven-haired girl. She stared into his eyes and suddenly the man was made terribly uncomfortable, but the inviting hand did not retract, his conscious would not allow him to leave a poor child in this storm. A moment passed when neither moved, before the girl finally accepted the hand. Blood streamed from her cut still and stained their linked hands crimson. She winced at both the pain of her hand and the man's startled gasp, for she was bleeding. "Those briar roses did quite a number on you, did they?" the old man asked softly, extracting a particularly long and nasty looking thorn that was firmly lodged onto the tip of her index finger and flicked it to one side. She continued to stare up at him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up."

The girl silently followed the man into his home and was greeted with a reassuring blast of warmth from the fireplace. She had but a moment to take in the simple surroundings—the wooden chairs, a modest table, a rusted pitchfork leaning against the wall—when a startled cry surprised her into fear once more.

"Who is this child, Marcus, and why is she so pale?"

Another of the beings had entered the small room, a woman, a hand over her chest. "Why, the both of you are soaked through! Shut that door, for goodness sake." The man holding the girl's hand suddenly released her as he hurried to close the door behind them. The girl had a sinking feeling of being trapped, cornered like wolves did their prey.

"I'm not sure who she is—thought she was the cat. She does not look like any of the villagers daughters. I think she's lost and I would not leave her outside in this weather. Would you tend to her?"

"Of course, of course." The woman twittered like an excited hen. "I'll see she's bathed and dressed and fed. Look at those eyes, just like a cat's. I can see why you would confuse her for Nero. Just found her you say? From the forest? Unbelievable. And in this weather." She garbled anxiously to her husband and gently pushed the girl forward. "Go to bed, Marcus, I can see to this myself. Come this way my dear."

* * *

A few years after her discovery, the black-haired girl had taken up residence with the kindly old couple and taken on the name of Sera, named after the Evening for which they had found her under the rose bush; though the term "residence" had to be taken loosely. The girl was most fond of the forest and would wander out to it the instant the sun was up and stay out until the sun had set, but she always came home for supper (and seldom ate) and to sleep. At first these unusual habits made the married couple anxious, but she was diligent about her return every evening, muddied with bits of twigs and leaves caught in her hair. Marcus would sigh in relief of her return, with a warm greeting for her and a warm meal from his wife. "Had an eventful day, have we?" 

Sera would smile up at him and say nothing; she spoke little as it was, but when she did—oh the words that would spill from her lips! It was like she had been born a royal. Her behavior was perplexing to say the least; a wild child by day, a noble by night, and a mute in public. When Marcus tried to explain this phenomenon to his friends, they would exchange glances and jokingly ask if he had broken into the mead a little early that day.

What surprised the couple more was that she had the look of an eight-year-old girl. She appeared not to have aged a day since Marcus had welcomed her to their home.

It was an enigma neither they, nor the townsfolk, could not understand. Most treated the unnatural child with fear and loathing. Her hair was too black and her skin too pale, with almost a sickly green tint to it. Mother's would hurry their children along when they saw Sera approach; the child surely carried a disease. Was it a pox that ravaged the towns these days? One could never be sure…

The boys of the village had especially taken to torturing Sera when she was not under the watchful eyes of her foster family. They would pull her hair and rip at her clothes, even throw stones as hard as they could at her. These first few assaults were ended with tears and fleeing to the cottage until Sera grew angry and began to retaliate. Their budding masculinity threatened, they would group against her, only to be thrown back by a searing shock that seemed to come out of nowhere. These inexplicable incidents only seemed to occur around the strange farmer's daughter—freak lightening strikes and crippling waves of sound—and the boys soon learned to avoid her.

The townspeople's fear was not without reason, for behind closed doors, the girl could work unexplainable wonders. She could make water curl in on itself to form heavy, round bubbles that floated midair and wilt a flower with a single touch. One of her favorite tricks was turning the fire in the fireplace a brilliant shade of emerald green. Though while she clapped her hands with joy, the married couple would look on in stupefied wonder; what sort of child was this?

Marcus' wife invited Sera to join her to purchase the occasional loaf of bread or stroll through the park. These walks, meant in good order, had grown to become more hostile with the passing months. The woman felt her heart tear for the young girl that a proper social life was not to be established and the walks together slowly ceased. Marcus' wife would watch Sera disappear into the forest with the deepest sympathy. Sera was going to suffer a lonely life when she and Marcus were no longer of the world.

Sera, however, was unaware of these predicaments. She ran about the forest, spying on deer and growing antlers from her head so that she might be accepted by these creatures, if not by her own kind. When the disguise of antlers failed her and the deer ran, Sera played the wolf and chased the frightened animals instead. One fateful morning, Sera spotted a lone wolf looking up into a low branch of a tree, where upon sat a large black bird. The two creatures seemed to only stare at one another, transfixed in the others gaze. Curious of this exchange and thrilled to see if one might attack the other; Sera crept forward only to stop short, her heart leaping into her throat. Both animals had looked sharply in her direction. Now, joined in this staring competition, Sera stood as still as a stone. What was going to happen next?

The wolf began to move toward her, perhaps seeing a juicy morsel in the young girl, but the bird flared it wings and cawed harshly at its counterpart. Its warning said, it shot upward into the leaves, leaving both girl and wolf to watch him depart. The wolf looked once more at Sera and stared for a long moment before it threw back its head and howled the most mournful, grief-stricken cry Sera had ever experienced. The silence that followed after was palpable, even the birds and leaves on the trees were quiet. The wolf lowered its head and trotted away, not once looking back, swallowed by the shadows of the forest. As Sera ran home in the growing darkness, unexplained tears streamed down her face, making it much more difficult to navigate her way through the trees. When her foster parents asked what had happened as she burst through the door crying and sniffling, she had no answer for them.

The acts of violence against the family escalated to a point that a riot had risen against them. Marcus quickly shooed the girl out the back door and told her to run, run as far and fast as she could and not look back. Sera caught one last glimpse of his sad smile, that familiar crinkle around his eyes she had grown to care for that were so tired and weary now, before he shut the door. She did just as he told her as the mob shouted and yelled and banged their weapons against the house. She paused in her flight to look back once more, the cottage she had grown accustomed to, the married couple that had cared for her and taught her all she knew beyond the forest, when three men came around the backside of the house and spotted her.

"There she is! Get her!" one shouted and the three grimly set after her, weapons raised. Terrified, she ran. The forest stretched before her, familiarity rising in her like a storm. A right at this tree and a stream would appear; a left at this stump and a deep grove would lead to a cave. She followed these subconscious commands until she made a terrific leap over a sheer cliff into a river she knew to be deep. Swimming across its breadth and surprised by the current it did not usually show, she dragged herself, panting, onto the opposite shore. She looked behind her as the men shouted and skidded to a stop at the top of the cliff she had just braved.

"That's hobgoblin territory," one said angrily, holding back the other two with his hands. "If we follow her, it means death for us too. If our luck holds, the goblins will find her to be a quick snack."

"Don't you ever come back, witch!"

"Or we'll kill you!"

The men gave up the chase, cursing and spitting, leaving Sera wet and shivering on the grassy bank, her knees hugged to her chest. The woods behind her were unusually dark; eerily silent. It was horribly unnerving. She sat there for hours, unsure of the imminent death that awaited her if she advanced too far in either direction. Nothing came to disturb her unnerved peace.

At last, she worked up enough courage to cross back over the river, slipping and sliding up the steep bank, all the while terrified that a monster would charge out of the undergrowth and swallow her whole. She walked light as a deer and tensed nervously as she pressed forward; listening carefully for the men that had chased her to the goblin woods. She heard nothing but the shy peeps of birds and occasional sigh of the breeze through the trees.

Finally, she reached the field that separated the forests that stood by the cottage and the forest that sprung anew behind the stream. A mass of black birds had gathered at its center and a twisting sensation of foreboding choked Sera's heart. She crept cautiously toward the fluttering, cawing mass; a flock of ravens had found a meal. As her presence drew too close to bear, the flock exploded into the air as a cacophony of angry caws and beating wings. Sera cried out in shock.

There, lying broken and bleeding on the ground were Marcus and his wife. They had been stabbed numerous times and thrown out on the field to rot. Grief swept through the girl like a wave, easily felling her knocking knees. She pressed her hands to her eyes and wept over them for what felt like an eternity—memories of their days together flashed through her mind and sweeping her with guilt at every new image. This would never have happened had they not shown her kindness. This was all her fault.

A croaking caw broke through her thoughts. She glanced up through swollen red eyes to see the blurry image of a single raven that had stayed behind. It stood atop Marcus bloodied chest regally, like a King that had felled his worst enemy. Her eyes met the beady black orbs of the great black bird and she shuddered once.

_All your fault._

Sera blinked.

"You…You speak to me?" She stuttered. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her. Surely she was slipping into a madness for the horrid sight that had greeted her eyes.

_I do. This is all your fault, fairy. These Mortars show rare act of kindness to fairy and they become feast for Raksas._

Sera stared stupidly at the bird. "I-I'm not a fairy. My name is Sera, and don't speak about them that way."

The bird caw-cawed loudly, giving Sera the impression she was being laughed at.

_Foolish fairy does not know who she is. Thinks she's a Mortar. I watched you before fairy, making green fire and antlers grow from your head. These Mortars are compassionate to fairy and wicked fairy ran as they were killed. Maleficent, aren't you?_

Sera's head dropped into her hands once more. "I didn't know this would happen!" she sobbed.

_Strange fairy you are. I feel pity for fairy but do not know if she will become the one; too strange she is. Soltier was wrong. _

The bird began to spread his wings and crouch.

"No, wait! Please!" Sera cried. "Don't leave me here alone."

The raven paused in its preparation for flight to look sharply back at the girl.

_There is power in fairy…Great power. Perhaps she will be…_The bird paused as though gathering his thoughts. _I will help strange fairy with mystical power find new home._

Sera sighed in relief. "Yes, thank you. You will be my friend, won't you?" She held out her hand awkwardly, palm facing up in invitation. The raven hopped onto her forearm, digging his sharp talons into her skin. She bit her lip but did not cry out. A strip of flesh still hung sickeningly from his beak and Sera did her best not to feel ill. The bird ruffled his feathers, looking up at her sharply.

_We leave._

"But what about my—"

The raven flared his wings impatiently, beak parting. _They matter no more! We leave._

Sera hastened to comply, not wishing to lose the companion she had only just made, yet at a loss of what to do for her interim family. Giving a final, silent farewell to the couple who had cared for her and reached their untimely end by her, she retreated once more into the forest.

Her arm grew tired as she walked and the bird seemed to understand her weariness. Without needing to be asked, he hopped up and settled on her shoulder. She smiled faintly. That was much better.

"Do you have a name?"

The raven made a complicated array of cawing squawks.

_That is what other Raksas call me._ Sera exhaled a hollow laugh.

"I don't think I can repeat that."

_Why do you wish to repeat it?_

"Well, I would like to call you something other than Raven."

The raven snapped its beak together.

_Strange fairy_. He seemed to admonish her.

"I just want to call you by a proper name." Sera explained, not daring to correct him for still calling her "fairy" and feeling a little foolish at being reprimanded by a bird.

_Worry not_. The raven nibbled gently at her ear. _I need no name. I am me. You are you. This we cannot change._

Sera fell silent. She did not wish to argue with the raven, though she would still prefer to give him a name. The minutes rolled by and the waning sunlight filtering through the trees in small patches was beginning to fade. The raven only spoke now to give her direction and the rest of the journey was traveled in silence. Sera was deep in concentration thinking of names for her new companion, when he started on her shoulder.

_They come._

In a flutter of wings the raven shot upward into the trees. Shocked and horrified by the sudden abandonment, Sera did not see an ambush spring into the open until the creatures were upon her. Armored beasts of pigs and lizards and birds, masquerading as partly human, advanced on her with spears and swords. Her life threatened, Sera felt the familiar surge of staggering power blasted through her veins. She focused the power to her finger tips and the concentrated energy exploded from her body in a wide arc. The blast efficiently knocked the creatures off their feet and sent them hurling backwards.

A silent moment followed the discharge as Sera realized she had summoned some mystic force to her aid once again. The raven spiraled above her, caw-cawing in what appeared to be delight.

_Beasties think twice before not playing nice!_ The raven sang into the girl's mind. _Come this way, maleficent fairy. I know of a place for you._ And on the black bird flew through the woods, with Sera sprinting after it. She leapt over stone and log as she followed the raven's twisted flight, until the trees thinned and a path wrought in rock rose before her. Glancing up in wonder, she discovered a castle high on a treacherous, craggy mountain. The raven flew more lazily now as he came back to rest on Sera's shoulder.

"A fine bird you are to talk of desertion." Sera said in annoyance. The bird ruffled his chest feathers and pumped his wings, hitting the side of her face on purpose. And it was then Sera decided a name for the creature, he certainly acted like a devious demon, and what name better to befit a demon than Diablo?

_I would be hit by your attack too._

The girl did not argue the logic of this. She looked up again at the castle on the mountain.

"Why have you brought me here?"

_This is your home. You belong here. _

She turned to look at the bird which stared determinedly at the castle. This dark and dreary place so suited her? The image of Marcus and his wife lying broken and bleeding in the field flashed through her mind once more. Perhaps she did deserve this. The choking grief was replaced by a hideous rage. Perhaps she wanted this. All of the townsfolk had met her with hatred, without a flicker of respect, by fear or otherwise; and the last two faces of humankind that had shown her any measure of compassion were destroyed. She owed nothing more to those people, to anyone.

_Come. Soltier die sadly. Make her spirit happy you return. _

The raven squeezed at her shoulder with his talons and she pressed forward.

"Return? I've been here before? And who is this…Soltier you've mentioned twice already?"

He appeared not to have heard her as he flew on, leaving Sera to scramble after. She was beginning to grow weary of these riddles.

Braving crumbling rock littered with lichen and climbing vines, and cresting the moaning, chill winds, Sera reached the precipice overlooking the chain gate that stood wide open.

The castle was vast and breathtaking, despite its overall gloom and vacant feel. The raven again lifted from Sera's shoulder and hovered over a spiral staircase, watching her.

_This way._

"How do you know your way so well?" she muttered, her hand clasping nervously at her heart, but the bird appeared either not to hear or chose not to answer. The stairwell wound up and up, broke into a hallway with high stone arches and into another spiraling stairwell. This place was dark and dank, altogether creepy; shadows seemed to leap out at her or cringe away in fright and she could swear she kept seeing a hovering red orb appear before her every few steps she took. It was almost as though the spherical specter was leading her on her ascent. Was this place haunted? Sera hurried her steps to keep up with that devious bird as he flew lazily ahead of her.

Finally, when Sera had thought the castle was much too large for her to contemplate; the raven led her into a side room. The room yawned into a large chamber with a window opening to each direction of the cardinal points. Torn cloth of what had once been elegant house colors, hung gloomily from the rafters in faded red and black. A shield hung at the opposite end of the room, missing its mantle of weapons, and below the old decoration was a large, decorative table. It was painstakingly crafted and carved, from the curling design in its edges right down to the clawed feet clutching to polished wooden orbs.

But the table was not what caught Sera's interest.

Diablo, as she chose to now call the raven, perched patiently on top of the table, sitting between what appeared to be an opal shaped ring and a scepter of finest gold. She approached the table, feeling a rising familiarity with each step.

_The ring first…_

"Then the scepter."

Sera stared numbly at the bird, almost feeling his surprise exude into the air. Swallowing, she pressed the ring onto the ring finger of her trembling right hand, feeling a pulsing energy in tune with the force she had summoned against the mob of goblins creep up her arm. She then inhaled a steadying breath and took up the scepter and, holding it with both hands, gazed into the orb sitting at top and its swirling green depths.

A face appeared out of the haze. Featureless and grotesque, like a masquerade mask of the simplest fashion with almond shaped, cutout eyeholes and an oval for a mouth and beyond these orifices was darkness. The mouth did not move, nor the eyes blink as the mask in the sphere spoke again.

"Finally, the apprentice returns."

Sera found she could not breathe as the memories that were trying to formulate in her mind seemed inevitable to fail time and again.

"I realize that you will not remember who I am, or even who you are. The night you accepted the terms of power destroyed all memory you had of your master and this place. I trust you may remember that stormy night you fled into, I was not very pleased at your choice of action. I searched for you and to my surprise, you had been accepted into the arms of a mortal…and how happy you were. I gave up trying to call you back, you were deaf to my words. The remaining portion of my power and the storm had drained me and so, on word of my beloved Soltier that you would not come back, I committed the last of it into this scepter you now hold. The last of my powers will be yours to command and I will be free in death at last." The face continued. A blast of fleeting images surfaced and shattered in Sera's mind in quick succession, none making any sense. "But still, we have only completed half of the transference, and at last, you have returned to finish it. I regret to say, you will lose your memory once again, but the power will be yours. So I must ask you again, as I did those many years ago: Do you accept these powers I bestow upon you?"

Sera was at a loss of what to say. She could hardly remember this woman or this castle or the life she had lived before the cottage. Even the night of the storm was a vague recollection of images. But the clearest picture in her mind, was of the married couple and their final resting place on the field. If ever she wanted to forget, it would be that horrible memory. She wanted to forget all that had come after the mob, all that had come before Marcus' sad eyes. She wanted to destroy her tormentors with this extraordinary potential of power the woman in the orb promised her. She would make them suffer as they had made her suffer.

And with a final deep breath, Sera clutched more tightly to the scepter.

"I accept."

The face tilted forward, perhaps in agreement, but said no more as heat and shock like the strike of lightening bolts seared through the girl. The excruciating pain was like none Sera had ever known and her screams of agony were drowned out by the swirling tornado of wind that had formed inside the chamber. Images flashed once again through her mind, more clearly and crisp than she had ever remembered. The woman sitting with Sera at tea, lessons of etiquette, lessons of working magic and containing power; the woman had taught Sera to read and write, and speak and move like a royal—and all this was promised to be restored to the girl, while Sera squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to forget the town and the cottage by the forest as she hatred fill the space of regret and betrayal. Words hovered around her ears, growing and shrinking in volume and tone.

_This is how…Return at once…have you finished…Maleficent, aren't you…No, no, speak more clearly…Sera, come home!...Where are you…why have you left…Come back to me…Maleficent fairy…I will not live long…_

_Maleficent, aren't you? Maleficent fairy…_

Her eyes shot opened, she had not realized she had shut them; the pain long forgotten as she felt the power surging through her head, coursing through her bones, enveloping her whole being like a heavy cloak. And now she stared up at stone walls and the cloth hanging from the rafters. The ceiling. Dazed, she felt the last shocks of the power exit her extremities, painfully. Her hands were empty, the scepter had fallen somewhere in the transaction. Suddenly a flutter of fuzzy black swam into her blurred vision.

_What is your name?_

This voice had asked more clearly than the chorus of voices she had heard a moment ago. She tried to make sense of the black blob hovering above her.

"Diablo?" she groaned, wanting to rub her eyes but her arms were too heavy to lift.

_Not my name. Your name. What is your name?_

"It's…My name is…" her vision snapped into focus, making her head hurt, though her mind did clear at the action. A smile gracing her blood kissed lips, the pupils of her yellow eyes opened then constricted into cat-like slits dancing merrily across the room, she inhaled sharply at the sudden enlightenment. And within her, a pale little girl named after the fall of the sun, was crushed in a void of dark power; forgotten.

_Your name?_ The voice above her asked again.

Words of grace and power arranged themselves in the fairy's mind and spilled from her mouth in a noble, eloquent fashion.

"I am Maleficent."

* * *

**Author's Note: Finally, got this posted. Wow it's been awhile since I've posted a 4500+ words story. I would have to thank Eric Blair again for his expert advice in the revision of this story (though he may be in for more than he bargained for...) I will be continuing this story because there are still holes in this one, but not to worry, I have a plan. Ooh, scary. This will most likely be a three chapter story, but that's a rough estimate for the moment (it will be if I keep writing 10 page chapters...) I promise future chapters will be more "Maleficent as we know her" based, though I just love doing those filler backstories. Lordy knows its tough to keep an audience with those, so congrats to all who make it to this author's note at the end (or skipped to it, that works too).**

**I really wanted Maleficent to parallel Aurora--I think I conquered the wood nymph aspect of it. I even carefully chose her name to be "Sera" which is Italian for "evening", just opposite of "Aurora" which is "dawn". Haha, I didn't come up with the name until I was half-way through the story. I forgot what I named her originally, but I prefer Sera. (More seh-raah than sarah, no offense to any sarah's out there...I just enjoy my uncommon names.) Even the title is in opposition to our Sleeping Beauty, our Rose versus a Black Rose. Awesome. I promise I do most of these symbolic things subconciously...**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story and will hunt this down when its updated (hopefully soon). Thanks again for all the help Eric!**

**Please review--I'd love to hear from you!**

**Blackfire 18**


	2. Chapter 2

**Blackest Rose**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sleeping Beauty or any of the characters there within, they are all property of Disney…etc.**

The young woman pushed herself to her elbows, disoriented and lethargic, losing her train of thought when a bleary caw and flapping pushed sharply off her torso. Dizzied by the perplexing motion and buffet of air, she shook her head lightly and blinked twice. The raven, of course.

"Oh, pardon me, Diablo." The voice that rose through her throat was unfamiliar. It was no longer light and airy, but had deepened and darkened like the deep, silent complete of the ocean. Mature, mysterious, and powerful. What had happened to her? She remembered her initial intent to stand, or at least sit up and still the motion felt awkward, as though her body was no longer her own. Why did her head feel so heavy? She reached up and felt her hair; it had grown longer. Was this mass of black really hers? The glossy locks, blackest ebony of the darkest winter night, spilled around her on the floor. She stared at the tumbling hair for a moment and felt a deep urge to touch it, to see if it was truly there. She reached out a bare, pale green arm to feel her hair, when she stopped mid-stretch. Her arm was too long. And her fingernails were immaculately cleaned and sharpened to fine points. She examined these new hands dumbly. What else had changed about her? Her legs had grown, her hips had curved, her breasts had filled in. And this new body was shrouded by a sweeping black gown that pooled around her fallen form. This foreign body must be something similar to a caterpillar's experience after a long winter of isolation in its cocoon. So she had transformed into a butterfly, had she?

A sharp caw resounded in the silence and the woman looked up at the raven sitting patiently on the vanity. He stared down at her with an air of utmost solemnity and cawed again. She gazed at him uncomprehending.

"Diablo?" she said in the unfamiliar voice. The raven cawed. Panic was beginning to swell in her chest. "Diablo, I cannot understand you."

The raven cried at her a little more loudly and flared his wings, but strive as she might, the woman could not make any manageable words from the bird language. Another moment passed in deepening silence for the barred communication with the woman trying to rein her panic and think critically, but everything had happened so quickly—this voice was not hers, this body was not hers, and this place—she looked around her—all of it was too much for her mind to comprehend.

A burst of movement caught her eye; Diablo had glided down to a metal staff where a mess of shattered slivers lay sadly at its crown. He stood over the shards and cawed meaningfully.

Everything was coming back to her now.

Well, not exactly everything…actually, only the moment of her transformation had returned to her memory; and the shattered globe that had once sat atop the scepter had come back to her in a rush. The scepter, it had once been her mentor's. But the instant she tried to recall the memory, the edges of her vision blackened and she sharply turned her thoughts from them. She feared losing consciousness lest her body changed on her again to something even more unrecognizable. The stone sphere atop the scepter flashed through her mind clearly once more.

"The orb," she said softly to the raven, "it must be replaced."

The black bird gave a sharp retort that sounded amenably affirmative.

"But where will I find such a stone?"

Immediately the bird was off like a shot as he lifted and dropped effortlessly out one of the castle windows.

"W-Wait, Diablo!" The woman moved so quickly to her feet and strode so briskly to the window that she nearly toppled out of it, banging her knee on the vanity as she went. Whether this had been a work of magic or her own naivety with the strange new body, she could not be sure. What a strange sensation to be so high off the ground. She wanted to experiment with this new body, to see how it moved and how it seemed to pull a spider-silk-thin force to and within itself from all directions, but Diablo was squawking and circling the castle with urgency and the young woman left from the window and hurried down the stairs with impossibly long strides. She was adjusting to her body now, though her hair was still heavy and seemed to stream after her with unfeasible lightness, as did the swirling skirts of her ebony gown. It was like walking through cobwebs, the force she felt. The strands of the foreign sensation were impossible to see and even harder to remove, but she had nothing to pluck from herself when she glanced about her body, trying to distinguish the spider homes that were surely sticking to her.

Confusion occupied her mind so fully she was not even aware she had somehow found her way to the drawbridge of the castle until she looked forward and saw the forest stretching before her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the sharp crags of the ominous fortress pierce the darkened heavens, a black, spindly finger that tore the sky. The awesomeness of the fortress was still breath-taking, but she no longer felt so tremulous towards it.

This was her home.

A searing burn lanced through her chest.

_Home._

She had had one once, she was sure of it, but the images would not come; only a burst of light and suffocating heat filled the void of the forgotten memories.

She turned from the castle and started when Diablo landed on her shoulder from the blue. He promptly cawed in her ear and lifted off once more.

"Someone's impatient," the woman said with mild irritation, but silently followed after the flapping bird as quickly as she dared down the dangerous path that cut through the sheer cliffs.

* * *

The going was difficult and she made slow progress, much to the raven's distress as he intolerantly circled her around and around when she chose her steps too carefully. Wherever he was leading her, it was of dire importance and they must not have had much time to reach it. She had begun to notice that the cobwebs were losing their strength and number; was it because she had moved so far from the castle or was the power actually fading? She glanced suddenly up at Diablo as the bird hovered on an updraft of air, waiting for her to advance. She could understand him before the staff was shattered, yet afterwards…

The items were arranging themselves more clearly in her mind and an urgency was beginning to fill her as well.

She hurried her pace.

It seemed to take ages before Diablo led her to a cave in the mountainside. He perched on her shoulder once more, not able to fly into the dark of the cave without the aid of the sun's light. She glanced up at the bird who stared solemnly ahead before she too turned her gaze into the black depths. Diablo lightly squeezed his clawed toes on her shoulder for reassurance when she hesitated and a small smile graced her lips; some things did not need to be spoken. She felt all the more grateful towards the black bird before she took a steadying breath, straightened up for whatever awaited her (for she would go unafraid), and breached the mouth of the cave.

Immediately the chill set in and the pitch black before her was daunting. She reached one long arm out to the wall to guide her. It was cold and smooth and faintly moist, and onward she pressed. Her footsteps echoed with a terrible loneliness in the cave and the ground gradually dropped to the heart of the earth. Time seemed to have lost its meaning in this place and it seemed an eternity when the cave wall began to curve to the right. She looked over her shoulder once more to spy the white dot she had entered eons ago in an awkward place, almost as if it were above her. But…that wasn't possible.

Diablo shuffled on her shoulder until his glossy feathers brushed her cheek. Right, she needed to keep moving. She continued down the cave, the black so complete, she would have been lost had she not trusted the wall to guide her.

Suddenly the spider webs were back again, wrapping her body so completely she felt she was choking. She fought to take her next few steps when she was brought to an abruptly shocking halt. Her entire body had smashed into something frigid and hard and she jumped back, terrified that she had found some dormant occupant in the dank darkness, but when she reached out her other hand to touch it, another shock stopped her heart.

The mountain rumbled and groaned and shook, and the thing she had collided with moved to either side of her revealing a sharp glow of eerie green light.

It took a moment for the woman to take it all in.

She had bumped into a door and once she touched it, it opened before her and there beyond was a room glistening with glittering crystals of all shapes and colors. There were glowing stones the size of a tree stump, stones as tall as her and twice as wide, stones that would fit into the palm of her hand. The crystallized light shimmered across the room at her arrival, playing across the walls and passing into one another to form spectrums of light at every angle, increases the light in the room manifold.

Astonished breathless, the woman slowly entered the room, her lips parted at the immensity of it and surprised by the warmth within compared without. The invisible webs were returning to overwhelm her, suffocating, and she waved one arm through the air and all the spindles of invisible thread gathered into her palm. A weightless light formed visibly there, blindingly white. The threads had finally manifested themselves to a visible, tangible thing, and the woman exhaled very slowly in her sudden and complete understanding.

"Magic." She breathed.

Then she knew what she had come for.

"The orb." Her yellow eyes swept across the cavern. "I need an orb for my scepter."

The light in her had flickered and vanished and in its place a single, invisible thread tugged once. She looked sharply in the direction the thread had pulled her, summoned her, and she followed the insistent drag, threading her way through the shimmering stones that grew brighter as she drew near and faded as she passed.

At last she came upon a gemstone that served as an alter for a litter of stones stacked atop it. The tug had waned into a humming that shivered her entire hand. She reached into the small mountain of stones and closed her hand around one of them, heat rippled through her in pleasurable waves. Yes, this stone was hers. She retracted her hand as the other stones fell away.

In her hand she held a beautifully emerald colored stone that turn a deep violet in its opaque depths. It was a strange shape, oblong and faintly rectangular, larger than her hand. It shimmered when she laid her eyes on it, as though it had been waiting for her.

_My orb_, she thought and sharply released the stone when it seared hotter than fire in her palm, but instead of crashing to the ground to shatter as she mistakenly had done to the first one at the castle, the stone hovered up from her hand and reshaped itself before her very eyes. The stone became spherical, a perfect ball that would fit comfortably in her hand. It floated slowly back down to her. She raised her hands to meet it and gazed once more in its depths, it had cleared to a fine glass and deep inside it swirled the emerald like a trapped liquid.

_Fairy find__ her crystal._

Maleficent looked up at her bird, forgetting he had been there all along, and smiled as she fondly stroked his chest.

"I think it found me."

* * *

The path back to the mouth of the cave was impossibly fast when compared to how long the winding, hesitant path she had made when she first entered. She held the stone to her breast as though it were her only child, and the instant Diablo saw the light at the end of the tunnel, he launched off her shoulder and flew ahead; back to fresh and open air. The woman never stopped to consider just how trapped he must have felt in the cavern or the joy the open sky must truly be. 

She would soon discover it for herself.

She blinked twice in the open air, sweet and dry, unlike the stagnant air in the cave and Diablo circled around her. She lifted one long arm instinctively and he landed there, looking up at her with a beady black eye.

_Maleficent have power. We fly__ now__Together._

She stared at the bird, not completely sure she had heard him correctly.

"Fly?" she repeated ceremoniously. Diablo snapped his beak with impatience.

_All Fairy fly. __Maleficent Fairy.__ Fly like __Raksas__; fly like other kin. _

And Diablo pushed off her arm again, as though to prove the act of flight was a simple, common task that anyone could perform should they put their mind to it. Maleficent looked down into her palm where the emerald sphere lay complacently. The smoky green clouds churned within and she was becoming entranced once more. A small image of a face appeared in the clouds, turning the green to red and the face transformed into a scaly, long-snout face with massive fangs and horns.

"My mentor," she murmured reverently, "her chosen form was a dragon."

Diablo glided on an updraft.

_Yes_.

She didn't believe she had remembered so obscure a fact in the vacant recesses of her mind, nor that the raven had heard her and she nodded solemnly.

"Then I shall be one too."

The red clouds inside the sphere exploded and the glass melted into brilliant emerald flames that engulfed her. The flames did not burn, though they were warm to the touch, more like a steaming vapor than an uncontrollable blaze, and she felt herself growing. Her arms and legs grew out and her skin sheathed over in black scales; a thick tail and leathery wings were extending out and along her spine a ridge of sturdy violet plates. Her ebony hair was lifting off her head and curling neatly into twin horns rising up to tear the sky. Her mouth yawned open to grow out the sharp, massive teeth as her face stretched and her nostrils moved with them. Her entire body grew and changed color and made scales until she was losing space on the steep edge of the cliff. She scrabbled with her forelegs on the edge of the cliff clumsily, trying to force herself backwards, but the mountain would not budge behind her and she was inevitably pushed off. Forced suddenly to learn how to fly, Diablo flew around her squawking madly and shouting advice in her mind. Instinct told her to level and spread the strange addition to her shoulder-blades that formed wings, and the wind caught her as it roared up the sheer mountain face.

The feeling was indescribable.

The ultimate freedom of the skies and the rush of the wind all around her, rippling over her wings was sweet liberation. Her sharp eyes could see the details of the leaves far below and so far to the distant lands beyond. She opened her mouth to exclaim her exhilaration and a powerful roar left her throat in conquering cries that echoed across the land. She pulled her wings tighter to her body and dove to the canopy of forest below, stopping just before crashing into the flora, brushing the treetops with her clawed fingers and toes; she pulled back up again, spinning acrobatic aerials as she went. The sky was her playground, her kingdom, her heaven.

Diablo was trilling happily at her side, spiraling his own serious of maneuvers, all too content to share the blue skies with her. They flew together for leagues until they reached the sea, the seething, frothing stretch of blue that disappeared into the sky on the horizon. It had been the first time Maleficent had ever seen the sea and it was an awesome sight. She rose and dove on the air, touching the sea and playing tag with the waves, slamming her tail against the water until it exploded with the velocity of a geyser upwards, she splashed Diablo.

She thought she would never grow tired of flying, how purely invigorating it was, and it was not until the sun retired in the Western sky to kiss the sea good night, that the two of them headed back to the castle on the mountain. Twilight had descended upon the castle when Maleficent and her bird came upon it at last. Had she not had her sharp dragon eyes, she might have missed the castle completely in the falling darkness.

She landed in a large courtyard within the castle walls that was at least four lengths of her draconic body and allowed space for a novice in landing. She hovered over the grassy courtyard and misjudged how far up from the ground she was, landing hard on her back legs and so stunned by the impact that she landed hard on her front as well. Her massive body skidded forward a short ways, ripping up grass and clods of dirt to humiliatingly mark her rough landing. Diablo caw-cawed high above her.

_Fairy need__ work on landing_.

The dragon shook its head on its long neck, dazed but otherwise all right. When she did not transform right away, she scraped at the ground with her claws, wondering how long she would have to wait to change back.

For one wild instant, she forgot what she had looked like before becoming the dragon, what she was, what she had ever been, when Diablo crooned over the wind and her bipedal fairy image came eddying into her mind. She closed her eyes. As soon as she recalled the image did her body start to change, shrinking her limbs, diminished her wings and tail to nothing, her horns falling back into ebony hair along her back that was absorbing its ridges. Her teeth ached as they pressed back into her skull and her entire face reformed itself right down to the pointed bridge of her nose.

The next thing she knew was that she had collapsed on the grassy lawn with her raven hopping around her to see if she was well. He was pulling at the hair on her crown when she came to again. She groaned and pushed herself up into a sitting position and every bone in her body ached from the transformation, her arms and legs were trembling. Diablo cawed a low single note.

_Worried_.

"I'm all right." She murmured, holding one side of her face in her hand, more to ensure that the transformation had gone smoothly and she did not have any erroneous scales or fangs or angular bones than to mask her pain. The raven fluttered up to her shoulder and nibbled her ear affectionately.

_Sleep now_.

"Yes," she mumbled. "Yes, of course."

* * *

Maleficent had not remembered making it to the tower and into the colossal bed, and when she awoke again, the sun had already risen a quarter into the sky. If she had ached in soreness yesterday, she was in withering agony now. Every muscle screamed at the smallest movement, her bones groaned, and the wings that _she no longer had_, ached as well. She wanted nothing more to sleep the day away, but Diablo dove in through the window and landed close to her face. She cracked one eye open for him and shut it again, exhausted. He cawed and flapped his wings. 

_Gobbins__ come for Maleficent._

She shifted and thought better of it.

"What?"

_Gobbins_.

The bird repeated more loudly with an impatient flap of his wings, which was not what she meant.

"What are gobbins?"

_Gobbins__ come for Maleficent. Look._

And she felt him launch off the bed and rest on the window sill. Tortured for having to get up, the woman slowly wriggled up from under the covers and pulled herself to one side of the bed. The chill stones of the tower floor sharply contrasted to the screaming tightness in her bare feet and she staggered over the window where Diablo stood. Her eyes opened wide at what she saw.

"Goblins."

A whole armies' worth of goblins stood at the drawbridge, patiently waiting to be let into the castle. The woman narrowed her eyes. Not too long ago, these same creatures bore down on her with the intent to kill.

"What do they want?" she said waspishly. Diablo flapped his wings tightly against his body in a shrug.

_Maleficent ask them_.

And he flew off into the grey morning. She watched him go. The last thing on her mind that particular morning was getting out of bed to talk to boorish, barbarian creatures of the deep forest that had once threatened her life, but she worried they might not be so docile the next time they came to her door in that number. She glanced back at her bed with the black sheets and canopy and discovered a vanity she had not seen before. Sitting on the desk was a staff, empty of the orb still. Her heart leapt into her throat. Where was her orb?

She moved quickly to the vanity, ignoring the scream of her muscles, and took up the staff. The instant she passed a hand over the empty clawed hand at its peak, did the emerald orb materialize cloudily there, set firmly in place on the scepter. Relief washed over her and she exhaled a slow breath of anxiety that had built in her chest.

Now, she would most likely have to make herself presentab—

The orb flashed and her wardrobe changed instantly to a black gown with a violet streak down its center and two rose streaks on either side of it. The arm pieces were long and faintly tattered and her hair was lifting off her back once more to curl tightly into twin horns on her head as a frill appeared around her neck. She felt very comfortable in these new robes and it was like this she descended the staircase to meet the goblins that waited for her.

* * *

"Why have you come to my domain?" Maleficent announced over the mass, all pain of transformation forgotten, towering over them all and looking fiercely regal and composed as she stood with her scepter in one hand and Diablo standing kingly on her shoulder. One goblin shoved forward through the masses of bird and rat and minx creatures only half human in form, and the others did nothing but snort or squawk their anger, for this was the goblin leader. He was a fierce looking creature, as ugly as they come, with a fat squat body and a pig snout that had mucus running from each nostril. He wore crudely fashioned armor lined in ratty furs and a dented helmet. He carried a spear and shield. Maleficent did not flinch away from the ugly creature and his weapons…or his reeking stench as she stared coldly down at him. 

"We live in forest many year and last Fairy who live here die long ago. My people confused to see dragon in sky day before, but not red dragon. This dragon black. Dragon mean new Fairy live on mountain. You Fairy?" he snorted and squealed his words into some semblance of language and Maleficent raised one eyebrow.

"Yes," she said slowly, with a royal air that could freeze blood. "I am the new mistress of this domain."

The pig snort-snorted and leveled his spear at her. Still she did not flinch away, but the sky was darkening with her mood. Many of the goblins were noticing the change and a muttering rose through the mass.

"Goblins like time without Fairy ruling forest." He advanced on her. "Now we kill new Fairy to stay in power."

A fierce gale whipped up from nowhere, rocking the drawbridge and all those who stood on it tottered in their places and the clouds in the sky turned to an ominous black, rumbling as they rolled over one another. There was a sudden chill among all who stood on the bridge then and a single lightening bolt cracked against the sky.

"If you strike me, you will die." The woman said with a quiet voice that boomed across the bridge and into the forest. The leader of the goblins seemed to have a drastic change of heart and he dropped his spear clattering to the ground. Many of the goblins on the far side of the bridge had turned to cowardice and scrambled over one another to take refuge in the forest, away from this new, crazy Fairy of the Mountain. Maleficent saw them and her eyes flickered just ahead of the lead goblin in the mad dash to safety. A lightening bolt split the ground open just before him, setting the nearby trees on fire and charring the ground it had hit a charcoal black. The goblins fell back onto the bridge. She would punish them all for their insolence. For daring to come to her home and threaten her again. She would destroy them _all_.

She had no idea were the blind anger had come from, only that it was rooted deep in the recesses her mind, the desire to destroy anything and everything that threatened what she held dear. The wind was whipping around her as well and she made a terrifying figure, standing there all in black with her great black gown billowing fiercely in the horrifying maelstrom. It was a moment before she realized the pig leader of the goblin had gone down to his knees, his chubby hands thrown up to appease her, to show mercy on them for their wrong. The wind slowly died and the black lightning, though only slightly.

"We have seen your powers. We underestimate Fairy and we are sorry. We will serve mistress of mountain. We will serve." He begged from the ground and the others followed his example, bowing to the woman. A weight settled on her shoulder once more. She had not even realized Diablo had forsaken her in her fury.

She considered the pig creature for a long moment before at last she spoke.

"Very well. You will serve me as I see fit, but for now, I want that you return to the forest peaceably. Should I need you, I'll send word."

"How we know you call us?" The pig grunted doubtfully. Maleficent's penetrating gaze was icy enough to stop the goblin's heart a beat.

"You will know." And she thrust one hand out. "Now go."

The goblins did as they were told and quietly they shuffled off the bridge, humbled by the experience, and disappeared into the forest.

* * *

Maleficent leaned back on the grand oaken doors with a sigh when she reentered the castle; the sheer power that had risen within her still pulsed hotly through her veins in time with her heart. Her eyes opened but she saw nothing as she stared across the sweeping foyer. 

Had the pig creature not begged mercy of her, she would have killed every last one of them. And still she could not think where the blind rage had welled up from, like a dam bursting from strains of pressures too great to withstand. She had hardly known the castle for more than a few days in her current state of mind, but deep in her consciousness, she knew every hallway and corridor. This was her home and she would protect it. Hot anger rushed sharply through her again like a knife. From every threat.

She sighed again and glanced at Diablo when he fluttered to land on the crystal orb of her staff. He stared quietly at her so long that she found she had to break the silence.

"Why do you look at me so?" she asked.

_Maleficent.__Powerful_.

The woman personally did not think much of her display; much of it had only been personified anger. But she had not witnessed what Diablo had seen—the sheer ferocity of her unrealized powers.

_Soltier's__ mistress strong. __Maleficent powerful_.

She stared uncomprehending at the raven. He was truly impressed. What had she done? What had she accomplished to deserve the praise her raven gave her?

_Show power. Gain army._

Maleficent blinked. Only now did she grasp the exchange that had happened outside on the bridge. The mountain was hers, but the forest was in fact, the domain of the goblins. The goblins had proclaimed their loyalties to her. She had indeed gained herself an army. A formidable force that could help protect her home; obey her commands.

With the steadying thoughts, Maleficent felt the surge of power leave her and the magnitude of her powers from the performance on the bridge struck her. Had she truly called forth _that_ much power? She unconsciously made a fist with her free hand, enjoying the threads of magic that collected there so willingly.

Perhaps she was powerful.

Perhaps deserved all she had demanded.

And she would rule her domain as such.

Diablo settled on her shoulder once more with a nip of devotion at her jaw. Maleficent found herself smiling softly once more.

"Come, I think it time to take to the skies and…practice landing maneuvers."

She chuckled and the raven cawed a respectable cackle as they headed towards the courtyard.

* * *

**A/N: I've been meaning to update this for months, especially since I've had help from my wonderful beta Eric Blair. (Many thanks as always, Eric!) I wanted to flesh out Maleficent's story a little more, though this is still really only the tip of the iceburg. I've got one more chapter in mind that stretched over several years and will therefore be the most difficult to write, but it should be interesting! I wanted to add more parallel's between our Wicked Fairy and Princess Aurora, but that didn't quite make the cut in this chapter. I plan to make many more allusions about them in the next one, while giving several accounts of other happenings the Good Fairies allude to about Maleficent. Sending frosts and all. So keep an eye out for it! I'll try to update a little faster next time...(??)**

**Thanks to all who read the first chapter, I hope you came back for this one and will enjoy the story to its end.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**

**Blackfire 18**


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